Let's Not Tell Dad About This
by xToastedZelda
Summary: A collection of Wee-cest oneshots. ch1: Dean learns how to kiss. ch2: Sam is jealous of the girls Dean's with. ch3: John gives Dean the Impala and what he does with it is his and Sam's business. [wincest]
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: **My friend gave me this fabulous headcanon the other day and I cannot stop thinking about it so here it is, my first ever Wincest fic. Enjoy!

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John, Sam, and Dean had been on the road for a few days chasing after a demon case in Oregon and finally stopped to stay in a motel for a few hours so John could get some real shut eye. John was asleep in one of the beds; Sam was sitting up and reading in the other. Dean soon figured out that day-time television was awful and decided to skip out for a while. He had quietly grabbed his jacket and was halfway out the door when he turned back to Sam.

"If Dad wakes up, tell him I went to get a soda," he whispered.

Sam looked up from his book. "Where are you going?" he whispered back.

Dean smirked. "I saw some girls a few rooms over when we were driving in." He saluted with his first two fingers on his brow. "Wish me luck," he added cockily before ducking out. Sam stared at the closed door and shook his head lightly, muttering a quiet "whatever" before returning to his book.

Dean slunk back into the room a few minutes later with a grim look on his face. He glanced at the beds and noticed one was empty.

"Sam?" The younger Winchester hummed in acknowledgement. "Where's Dad?"

Sam shrugged. "Said he needed a drink, woke up right after you left," he answered without looking up from his book. "So how'd it go?"

"With the girls?"

Sam closed his book and tossed it onto the table between the beds. "No, the earthquake," he quipped sarcastically.

Dean sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "She said she wanted someone more 'experienced.'" He plopped down on the bed next to Sam. "What does that even mean?"

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "How many girls have you even kissed Dean?"

Dean's eyes darted around the room and he turned his head to hide the furious blush that was forming on his cheeks. "U-uh, tons, Sammy," he stuttered. Dean hadn't really been able to get with that many girls because of their family's travelling.

But then it occurred to him. There was someone he could "gain experience" with and he spent more time with that person than with any girl he'd ever met.

And he was sitting in this very room.

On this very bed.

Mere inches away.

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders and before either of the brothers could really process what was going on, he planted his lips onto Sam's rather forcefully.

Sam froze for a moment before pushing his brother away with a shove to the chest.

"What the hell, Dean?!" Sam shouted as he scooted away and dramatically wiped his mouth with his forearm. Dean stepped away so fast he fell off the bed before he could catch himself. He looked up at his younger brother from the floor, tears daring to spill from his eyes.

"I'm s-sorry, I just…" Dean muttered. He should have figured that Sam wouldn't let him practice on him. It's weird to kiss your brother, he knew that now. Dean sighed and stood to leave but as he turned he felt a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Sam, what are you—" Sam cut off his question with a gentle kiss. The younger Winchester pulled back with a smirk and stared at Dean who was completely dumbfounded.

"You really haven't kissed that many girls," Sam said matter-of-factly.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at Sam. "What?"

Sam chuckled; hand still on Dean's arm. "You don't just _attack,_" he instructed, taking a small step closer to his brother. "Gently, Dean," Sam whispered before softly pushing his lips back on Dean's. Dean kissed back fervently and Sam stopped.

"You never listen." He slid a hand onto Dean's jaw and brought his mouth back to his own. "_Gently_," he repeated with emphasis. Dean nodded shortly and slid his eyes closed as he kissed his brother again, taking into consideration Sam's instructions. "That's it," Sam whispered before letting Dean kiss him again and again.

Hours passed in time that felt like minutes, Dean and Sam still wrapped in each others' arms on the bed, kisses moving from lips to necks to shoulders to chests. Dean was nipping the skin above Sam's waistband when the roar of an approaching engine split the two. The brothers scrambled to locate their discarded shirts as the jingle of keys could be heard from the door. Dean had just pulled his black tee over his head when John came into the room.

John placed the six pack of beer on the table with a thud. "We're heading out after dark," he announced unceremoniously. Dean and Sam nodded and began packing the semi-freshly cleaned weapons into the duffels, ignoring the blushes on each others' faces.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been two weeks since the day in Oregon. The Winchesters were still trekking across the country as usual. Dean had been scoping every location for a girl to try out his 'new moves.' Sam didn't seem to notice, or at least tried not to.

John had stopped at the Dixie Palms Motel in St. George, Utah. It was about 11 pm so John was probably at a bar. Sam was still at work researching the ghost that was haunting a nearby abandoned bowling alley, unsuccessfully trying to occupy his mind while Dean ran around town finding any girl to make out with.

Sam was having no luck with the research. He closed his laptop with a sigh and a moment later Dean appeared in the doorway with a huge grin on his face.

"Dude, Sam, thanks for that thing you taught me," he praised, patting his brother on the shoulder as he passed. "That chick was all over me man."

Sam nodded. "Sounds fun," he said flatly, moving his laptop from the table to its case. "I'm gonna go for a walk." He stood and walked toward the door.

Dean stared at him. "Dude, no, it's getting late," he protested, "and Dad will probably be back soon."

"Whatever," Sam mumbled as he opened the door and slammed it behind him.

Dean raised an eyebrow before shrugging it off and heading to the bathroom for a shower.

Sam stalked hastily around the building to the backside where he leaned heavily against the wall. He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. Was he dumb to think Dean would actually want him? Probably. He balled his hand into a fist and slammed it into the brick.

Dean lathered his Old Spice shampoo into his hair as he sang off-key. Through the pattering of the water (and his own screeching), he heard John's familiar truck engine roll up and then the front door opening.

"Dean?" John called, anger rising in his voice.

Dean pulled away the shower curtain and shouted around it. "Yeah?"

"Where the hell is Sammy?"

Dean quickly turned off the water and scrambled out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and grabbing another to dry his hair. He finally emerged from the bathroom and faced his father who had a bitter scowl on his face.

The elder Winchester brother awkwardly cleared his throat and rubbed the towel against his head. "H-he said he was going for a walk," he croaked out.

"At this hour?" John howled. "You're supposed to watch out for him."

Dean tossed away the towel and went towards his duffel. "Fine then, I'll get dressed and go find him."

Sam slid down the wall, the hard brick scratching his back along the way. He sat in the grass with his head in his hands.

"Sam?"

He heard his brother's voice echo faintly from the other side of the building. Sam stayed quiet.

"Sammy, you out here?"

Sam pulled his legs closer to his chest and wedged his face between his knees. He really didn't want to face Dean right now. He could hear the crinkly sound of crunching leaves under someones feet getting closer.

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean asked gently and he could tell his brother was crouched next to him, almost whispering in his ear.

Sam sighed. "Just leave me alone," he muttered.

"Dude, I told Dad I would come get you so… come on." Dean lifted his elbow in an attempt to make him stand. Sam pulled his arm away and Dean frowned. "Ok, Sammy," he whispered, backing away slightly. "What the hell is going on?"

"Just go back to the room," he sighed. "I'll be back in a minute."

Dean hesitantly stood. "Alright."

Sam continued to sit and Dean headed back to the room. He didn't really notice how long he'd been sitting there but after a while he decided it's time he started making his way back, at least so Dean wouldn't get chewed out by Dad for not bringing back his precious and sacred little brother. Oh well.

He crept through the door and noticed Dean asleep under the covers of the bed they shared and John in his own bed. Sam toed off his sneakers, stepped out of his jeans, and slipped into the bed just next to Dean.

"Seriously, though, are you alright?" he heard him whisper before turning over. Sam's eyebrows knitted together.

"I thought you were asleep," he whispered back.

Dean shrugged.

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I'm good."

"You swear?"

Sam rolled his eyes playfully and nodded. Dean sighed with relief before kissing him chastely on the lips then turning his back to him.

The youngest Winchester laid on his back in silence for a moment before whispering again. "Um...Dean?" Dean hummed in acknowledgement. Sam turned toward his brother and pressed his lips to the nape of Dean's neck before quickly shuffling back to his original position.

Dean huffed a slight laugh. "Oh, Sammy," he quietly sneered and faced him once again. "You're such a tease," he growled about as lowly as any 17 year old could.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam remarked with a blush that was thankfully hidden in the dark.

Dean scooted closer to him. "Uh huh." He adjusted himself to be leaning over Sam and brought his lips down to meet his, fervently slotting their mouths together in an absolutely obscene way. Sam kissed back for only a second before half-heartedly pushing at Dean's bare chest. Dean sat back and looked at him.

"Okay, tell me what's wrong."

Sam shook his head.

Dean kissed him again. "Please?"

"No."

His lips traveled from Sam's lips to his jawline, fluttering gentle kisses along it. "Please?" he whispered against his brother's skin.

Sam wriggled at Dean's ministrations and let out a stifled mewl. He could feel Dean grin against his neck. Dean's hands were at Sam's hips and he thumbed at his hipbones, inducing another racy moan to fall from the boy's lips.

The two completely stopped moving when John grunted from the other bed and tossed from one side to the other.

This is it, they thought. This is when he finds out and ties them up and beats them for being absolutely horrible and sickening.

The air was stagnant for a long pregnant pause. The two stared at John's bed as the blankets settled and a terrified bead of sweat dragged across Dean's face.

It was as if the world ended and this was the afterlife, and it was perpetually frightening. The analog clock on the nightstand between the beds seemed to have a longer beat between the ticks, each moment getting longer and longer with each tock.

When they finally heard the sound of their father's breathing return to normal, they each let out a long exhale. Dean looked into Sam's eyes with a mischievous expression.

"Tsk tsk tsk," he hummed. "You have to be quiet, Sammy." Dean's hand traveled from Sam's hips to his groin and palmed his already half-hard cock through his boxers.

Sam bit his lip to keep from moaning. "Dean," he whispered through a slight smile. "So forceful." He ran his fingers along the elastic of Dean's shorts and dipped his hand inside. The noise that came from Dean was pornographic to say the least.

"Ah ah ah, Dean. I thought we were to be quiet?" he chided softly into his ear before stroking him harder.

Dean bit his lip and growled, "touché."

Sam pulled off Dean's boxers and shoved him onto his back. Dean gasped as Sam climbed on him and continued to jerk his now fully erect cock. His brother was shivering with how close he was to spilling over the edge. Sam didn't stop.

"Come for me," he whispered as he brushed his lips up Dean's neck.

Sam caught Dean's groan with a kiss and stroked him through his orgasm as he came all over his chest.

"Okay," Dean breathed after blowing his load, "Your turn."


	3. Chapter 3

"You're giving me the Impala?" Dean beamed, sitting on the counter in the hotel room as John nonchalantly tossed him the keys.

John nodded. "Why not? You're an adult, you're old enough to go on hunts on your own," he added with a shrug. "Just take good care of it," he warned with a finger pointed in Dean's direction.

Dean hopped off the counter and headed for the door. "Yeah yeah," he muttered, knowing he was definitely going to take care of it, so reminding him to do it was pointless.

John grabbed his upper arm as he passed and spun him around. "I'm serious, Dean."

Dean scoffed, "Yeah, Dad, I know." He turned around and opened the door, revealing Sam who had just come back from the gas station with a bag of doughnuts and a slushie. Dean's eyes lit up at the sight, half because Sam and half because doughnuts.

"Sammy!" he marveled. "Dad just gave me the Impala. Wanna go for a spin?" he asked, holding up the keys as proof.

"Hell yeah!" Sam dropped the cup and bag on the table and the two sped out of the doorway toward the Impala, neglecting to close the door behind them.

Dean clambered into the driver's seat while Sam sat shotgun. He let out a breath as he slowly caressed the leather of the steering wheel.

Sam chuckled. "Dude, it's just a car."

"It's not just any car," Dean retorted. "She's _the_ car, the car I've wanted since I was ten." His hands had moved to the radio as he continued to admire the dash. "Dad never let me touch the radio and now it's mine."

"Not like you'd pick any song Dad wouldn't," Sam giggled and pecked his cheek.

Dean playfully glared at his little brother. "Dude, c'mon, let me have this."

He sighed, "Alright," as Dean finally put the key in the ignition and started the car, Led Zeppelin pouring out of the speakers.

He revved the engine a few times with a wide grin plastered on his face before he backed out of the parking space and screeched out of the hotel parking lot.

"So where are we going?" Sam asked a few miles down the road.

Dean shrugged. "Wherever you want."

Sam dropped his gaze to his lap and absently picked at a hangnail. "There's this place..." he muttered, "um, these kids at school were talking about it."

"Ah, Sammy," Dean smirked. "You mean one of those make out spots?"

Sam kept his eyes locked on his hands as he hesitantly nodded.

Dean grinned. "Alright, where to?"

The boys arrived in an abandoned parking lot on the top of a hill overlooking the small town as the sun was setting on the horizon behind it. Sam scooted across the bench seat and rested his head on his older brother's shoulder. Dean dropped his hand from the steering wheel and laced his fingers with Sam's.

Sam turned his face into Dean's neck and brushed his lips against the freckle-dusted skin there. Dean sighed happily and turned to his little brother, kissing him softly on the lips. Sam moaned blissfully into his mouth.

"More," he breathed, clutching at Dean's shirt.

Dean smiled. "C'mere, babe," he whispered as he slid over the back of the seat and pulled Sam with him. The younger brother climbed into Dean's lap and kissed his neck, Dean sliding his hands up the back of his shirt.

Dean pulled Sam's shirt off and tossed it in the front seat before pinning him to the leather seat and continuing to pepper his face and chest with kisses. Sam grabbed Dean's hips and grinded his hardening cock against his older brother's.

Dean's breath hitched and he looked down at Sam lustfully. Sam slid his hands up his brother's sides and pulled his shirt off. He leaned up and caught Dean's lips with his.

"Fuck me," he whispered against them.

Dean almost came just like that. He'd wanted to fuck his little brother's ass pretty much since the first time they kissed. Hearing Sam beg for it made his cock twitch in his pants and he wasted no time unbuttoning his jeans and slipping out of them.

When he looked back at Sam he was laying completely naked and his dick was hard against his belly. Dean dipped down over his crotch and licked a stripe from the base to the tip, eliciting a moan from the boy as he lifted his hips to Dean's mouth.

Dean kneeled on the seat and settled his face between Sam's legs. He ran his tongue over his balls as one hand wrapped around Sam's cock and the other was circling his asshole with the tip of his middle finger.

Sam gasped and rocked his hips into Dean's hands.

Dean smirked and looked up at his little brother through his lashes. "Not yet, Sammy," he purred before lowering his mouth to Sam's hole and slowly thrust in his tongue.

Sam was mewling and fisting Dean's hair, urging him to keep going. Dean's hands were continuing their ministrations while he worked his brother open with his mouth, licking and mouthing at his puckered, pink little hole until Sam was whimpering and begging.

"Please...Dean," he panted, "Need you...s-so bad."

The older Winchester grinned and reached into the pocket of his pants on the floor, pulling out a packet of lube. He tore off a corner and poured it into his hand before rubbing it all over his dick and around Sam's asshole.

Smirking, Dean lined up his cock with his little brother's hole and paused just long enough to drive Sam crazy.

"God, Dean, just fuck me," he groaned and squirmed, pressing his ass against the head of his brothers cock.

Dean pushed in slowly, stretching Sam open with a slight burn that faded away into a pleasurable warmth. His hips finally met Sam's ass and he stilled to let him adjust to the size of the cock stuffed in his ass. Dean leaned down and kissed Sam's chest up to his neck.

"You okay?" He whispered.

Sam moaned. "Move, God damn it," he whined.

Dean pressed his lips hard against Sam's and he could taste his own ass on his brother's mouth and suddenly he was pounding in and out of his ass. He bit his lip and stifled a moan as the tip brushed against his prostate.

Dean chuckled as he aimed to hit that bundle of nerves over and over until they were both on the edge of coming undone. He loved watching his dick disappear into his brother.

"D-Dean..Dean, I'm gonna..." Sam stammered quickly, reaching for his own dick between them.

Dean breathed, "Go for it, baby," as he nipped at Sam's collarbone and continued to thrust into him.

Sam came with a groan as he stroked his orgasm out in spurts over his chest. At the sight of his brother's blissed out face, Dean's hips stuttered and he came deep inside his little brother's tight ass.

He collapsed on Sam as the two calmed down from the ecstasy of their orgasms. Dean slipped out of Sam who winced at the emptiness and laid next to him.

"I love my new car," Dean breathed.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean and Sam drove back to the motel with pants still unbuttoned and smiles on their faces. They only noticed John's truck was gone because it told them they could kiss before they got out of the car and after they got out of the car and as they walked to the door and when they opened the door and...Well, I think you get the idea.

They made out in their bed for a while until they lost track of time and realized it was long past 1 in the morning and John still wasn't back. Dean tried to call him but it rang twice before going to voicemail. They went to the front desk and asked if they'd seen him.

"He checked out a few hours ago. "

They tried calling him again. Directly to voicemail.

They ran back to the room and hastily packed up their stuff and hit the road. Sam dialed and redialed John's number as Dean drove. It was three a.m. and still nothing. They stopped on the side of the road and fell asleep together in the backseat.

A few hours later Dean woke to his ringtone of some guitar riff coming from the front seat. He leaned over the back of the seat and swiped it before it could wake up Sam, answering it without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" he asked quietly.

"Dean, I'm busy on a hunt. Stop calling me," was all John said before promptly hanging up.

Dean slowly lowered the phone from his ear and stared blankly out the window. He was brought out of his reverie by a soft kiss on the back of his neck. Dean hummed contentedly and turned around.

"Who was that?" Sam asked, voice gruff with sleep.

Dean smirked at the sound. He'd always loved the way Sam sounded in the mornings. He pressed his lips against Sam's for a moment before replying. "Dad. He said he was on a hunt and that we shouldn't call him," he frowned.

"That's weird," Sam said, sinking back into the seat. "Did he say why?"

Dean shook his head. "He was really abrupt about it then he hung up."

"Maybe he knows what he's doing," Sam shrugged.

Dean sighed and slid back next to his younger brother. "Let's hope."

A week later, John called back and told them he would be in Memphis and that he would need their help on this hunt. They met up the next day at the motel. After checking in, they went to the room and Dean and Sam put their duffels on their bed.

"You boys are getting too old to share a bed," John barked, earning two confused looks from his sons. He continued, "Dean, you'll sleep on the couch from now on."

Dean scoffed. "Dad, those couches are always super uncomfortable."

Sam interposed warily, "Besides, I don't think we're getting too old–"

"You aren't sharing a bed anymore and that's final," John snapped. He threw his duffel on his bed before snatching Dean's and throwing it on the couch. "Get ready, we're going to the house in an hour," he said before taking a set of clothes and a towel into the bathroom for a shower.

Dean and Sam stared at each other for a long moment before either of them talked.

"You don't think..." Sam began, raising an eyebrow.

Dean shook his head nervously. "No, there's no way he knows. Besides, I'm almost 19," he added, "That _is_ kinda old to be sharing a bed with your brother."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, that's totally it," he agreed.

For the next few weeks, they tried to ignore the thought that John knew about them. John didn't make it easy. He wouldn't leave them alone together in the motel rooms, usually taking Sam with him wherever he was going and making him stay in the truck with no explanation as to why. When they were traveling from hunt to hunt he'd make Sam ride with him.

John did know, though. He was standing in the open doorway when he saw Sam kiss Dean in the front seat of the Impala He started regretting even letting him have the car. If John had known that his sons were fooling around he would have never given them a mobile place to do it.

And as for Dean and Sam "fooling around," they hadn't as much as kissed since before their dad reappeared after that week of being gone. It was really getting to them. Usually they'd be able to hide their lust for each other, knowing they would just fuck later. But when Dean would get worked up and sweaty from digging a grave Sam couldn't ignore the tightening of his pants. But at least Dean had the time to take care of his own problems when John would take Sam out to wherever he could drink away the idea of his boys kissing each other.

They could no longer risk waking John up in the middle of the night to his sons frotting in the bed next to his.

After a while John stopped taking Sam with him wherever he went, and they figured he had finally decided there was nothing going on.

The Winchesters were squatting in an abandoned house on the outskirts of a town with a haunted library and Sam couldn't take it anymore. He decided to wait for John to leave for the night.

Dean was sitting on the threadbare couch in the middle of the room thumbing through half of an old issue of Field and Stream that he found wedged in the cushions. Sam sat on the metal folding chair across from him, bouncing his leg impatiently. John finally announced his exit with a vague explanation that usually meant he'd be drinking 'til dawn.

Sam hopped from the chair to the couch and plucked the wrinkled magazine from Dean's hands. Dean smirked at him, knowing what it meant. He cupped Sam's face in his hands and kissed him roughly. He pushed him down on the couch while Sam pawed at his zipper.

"Hey, slow down, kid," Dean whispered against his lips.

Sam lightly bit his lip and said, "I've just missed you so much."

Dean dipped down and kissed along his jaw. "We've got plenty of time, don't worry." He slipped his hands under Sam's shirt and rubbed his thumbs over his nipples, eliciting a soft mewl from the boy. He pressed his hips against Sam's and grinded slowly.

Sam gasped and writhed under his brother. He'd waited for this for so long. "Dean...please." Dean chuckled at his plea and continued kissing down his neck. Sam sighed and peeled off his shirt, giving Dean access to more skin.

Dean's lips traveled down his chest and settled teasingly close to Sam's jeans. He nipped at Sam's hipbones and his hands slid under his ass. Dean's fingers traced the waistband at the back of his jeans, pulling them down slightly.

Eventually, they were both completely naked and Dean was almost fully seated on Sam's cock and suddenly he was being shove hard from the side. After falling face-down on the floor, he looked up to see John standing behind the couch with a bottle half-full of scotch in his hand and a furious expression on his face.

"I knew it," he growled. "This whole time, you boys have been fucking behind my back. My own sons, sucking each others dicks like a couple of faggots."

Dean scrambled for his and Sam's clothes on the floor, tossing Sam his jeans while he tried to pull on his own.

"D-Dad, please," he stuttered.

"Not a word," John fumed, pointing with the hand that held the bottle before taking a gulp from it. "You two...th' whole time..." He glanced at Sam who was now standing partially behind Dean and noticed the hickeys that were scattered across his bare chest. John pointed at them in horror. "How could you let him do this to you?" He finished off the scotch and threw the empty bottle at Dean's feet. Dean winced and took a small step back. "You're his older brother!" he roared, "You were supposed to take care of him, not–" He cut himself off and turned away scrubbing a hand over his mouth, unable to even say out loud what his sons were doing.

Dean looked at the broken glass that cut into his feet then back up at John. Though the couch was separating them, Dean was scared that anything he said would probably earn himself a punch in the face. He stayed silent as John screamed slurs at him.

"I just can't believe this," he continued, pacing behind the couch as Dean and Sam stood frozen in fear. "What even put it in your head that this was a good idea?" John had turned on them and seemed to expect an answer. "Well?"

Dean heard Sam softly clear his throat from behind him. "We were just–"

"It's my fault," Dean interrupted. "I... I forced myself on Sam." A nervous sweat broke out on Dean's face as he lied and watched John turn red with anger. Sam stared confused at Dean. He hesitantly continued, "He didn't want to do it; I h-had to convince him." Dean knew his father would be angry at both of them but maybe by saying this would direct John's anger only at himself and Sam would be alright.

John lunged over the couch and toward Dean, landing a punch just below his eye. Sam screamed. Dean held back tears and kept his face like stone as John continued beating him. Sam backed away to the wall and sat against it. He cupped a hand over his mouth as he cried silently, watching his brother get pummeled by their own father. He could hear someone calling his name, but he wasn't listening. Sam couldn't really hear over the ringing in his ears and the sounds of fists on skin.

The rest of the night became a blur and Sam could vaguely process being pulled up and moved to the door and outside to a car. He wasn't sure who it was, he hoped it was a police officer who somehow knew they were here.

Sam woke hours later slouched against the door of whatever car he was in. Still processing where he was, he looked around quizzically. Whoever had put him in this car had draped a leather jacket over him and was now nowhere in sight. Sam looked out the window and realized he was at a gas station and whoever was with him was probably inside paying.

The driver side door opened and Sam flinched at the sound of the old hinge. A bottle of Powerade and a bag of doughnuts were being shoved at him and a familiar voice filled the car.

"How ya feelin', Sammy?"

Sam's eyes darted over to the source of the voice and saw his brother, bruised and smiling. Sam slid across the seat and threw his arms around Dean.

"I thought..." he whispered. "I thought Dad was gonna kill you." Sam's grip tightened around Dean's shoulders. "I thought he..."

Dean dropped the food on the seat and slid his arms around Sam. "It's okay," he whispered back. "Everything's fine."

Sam sniffled. He hadn't realized he was crying. "Why did you say...what you said?"

Dean sighed and pulled back slightly. "If we had said anything else he would have beat us both. I needed to keep you safe."

Sam softly kissed Dean's split lip. "So...what happened last night?" The younger Winchester asked hesitantly.

Dean quickly explained how after John started wailing on him, he started fighting back and eventually knocked him out. He told him about how Sam was crying and when Dean tried to get his attention he had completely checked out.

"And so I left John in the house and I knew I had to get you out of there," Dean finished, pulling out of the parking space and driving to the exit of the lot. "We're about three states away, now."

Sam laid across the front seat with his head in Dean's lap, looking up at his big brother.

"I love you," he whispered.

Dean glanced down at him and smirked. "I love you, too," he replied as he looked back at the road ahead.


End file.
